


Just a Glimpse

by Confused_Foam



Series: Haikyuu Halloweek 2018 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fainting, Haikyuu Halloweek 2018, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Mild Language, Multi, Time Travel, Unexplained Magic, stranger danger, the tiniest mention of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16405100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Confused_Foam/pseuds/Confused_Foam
Summary: When people say face your future head on, they don't usually mean it quite so literally. Tooru is so caught up mourning the past that he is far from prepared with the future decides it's coming to him in the form of a friendly cup of tea.TIME TRAVEL/aliens/apocalypse





	Just a Glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> This is my day two piece for Haikyuu Halloweek. This is the longest piece I have for this week by far, and is actually the first one I finished. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

This was supposed to be a rest day. Time for the body to recover and muscles to re-knit themselves stronger than before. Without rest days your body just gets run into the ground and you never actually improve. They are one of the most important things in a training regimen. Today is supposed to be a rest day and Oikawa Tooru is out running just after 5 am. 

He already knows he’ll be hearing shit about it. From Hajime. From his mom. Most definitely from his traitorous fucking knee. But it's not like one missed rest day matters. They aren’t getting ready to go to nationals. They aren’t getting ready for anything. There isn’t even a they anymore. Technically Tooru isn’t on any team at all at the moment. He’s retired, now its just keeping his body and game up for university. He wants to scream. He runs harder.

Three years. Six tournaments. Zero victories in the final rounds. Zero trips to nationals. 

Oikawa Tooru’s high school volleyball career ended five days ago. The stage lights went out without the curtain ever lifting. There is a gnawing pit in his stomach reminding him of it every second. So he runs harder. 

This isn’t his normal route. He couldn’t stand to look at that park right now, so he took a few odd turns in the predawn haze. Honestly, he’s lived here his whole life but he only has the vaguest idea where he is right now. It may have been more than a few odd turns. But there’s now one around, and at the moment he couldn’t care less about getting lost. He just want to run. Away from losses and comforting pats on the back and the jersey hanging on his wall out of habit. 

Try as he might, he can’t run forever. Eventually his lungs are beyond protesting and move into straight up striking. Tooru half collapses onto the tiny garden retaining wall of the courtyard he’s found himself in, taking huge gulping breaths. The garden is rather beautiful, enough so that he feels bad for gagging into one of the bushes even though nothing comes up. He’s shaking so bad that he can’t properly read the time on his phone until he balances it against his leg. The steadied display tells him that he’s been at this far too long. And that his mom is looking for him. 

From Mom (7:18): Where are you?  
From Mom (7:22): Tooru! Where did you go?  
From Mom (7:23): Did you go to Hajime’s?

From Iwa-chan!!! (7:29): I swear Oikawa if you are practicing I’ll kick your ass

There are a handful more messages and his phone is buzzing again as he reads. They are both going to be so mad. He didn’t mean to be out this long. The point of leaving so early was to be home before anyone even noticed, but he screwed that up pretty well. His phone goes off again and he sends it skittering across the pavement. Listening to the sound of plastic on concrete, he tucks his head between his knees 

“You, young man, are going to kill all of my plants giving off energies like that.” Tooru just about jumps out of his skin at the unexpected voice so close to him. When he looks up there is an older woman standing just in front of him. When she got there, where she came from, and how he didn’t hear her, he has no idea. 

“I’m… sorry?” Even Tooru isn’t sure if he apologizing or asking her to repeat herself.  
She reaches out a hand, brushing her palm across his forehead. The touch is lifted before Tooru can even flinch away . “What-”

She don’t give him a chance get a question out, talking right over him exclamation “You look a little unwell. Would you like something to drink? How about some tea?” Her smile is so warm and friendly, Tooru is reminded of his grandmother. He finds himself agreeing to sit down for a drink without a thought to stranger danger. “You go on and take a seat and I’ll be right back.” 

Tooru isn’t entirely sure why he complies, going to sit quietly on the bench and leaving his phone face down on the sidewalk. She is comforting, even though Tooru has never met her before. The brush of her palm across his head left his chest feeling all weird and wobbly, but not in an unpleasant way. His whole body sort of feels like half boiled noodles. Some tea is probably a really good idea. 

He sees her coming this time at least, out of one of doors on the ground floor. She gives him that warming smile again while she carries over two cups of tea. “Here you are.” She says as she hands over one of the intricately painted cups. 

“Ah...Thank you.” Tooru replies, taking it gratefully. It smells amazing.

“Please. It’s no trouble at all, and you looked like you needed it, if you don’t mind my saying.” And she leaves it at that. Tooru was expecting a bunch of well meaning if prying questions in exchange for her kindness. He would have had a few questions to ask random stranger if he were going to serve them tea, at least. She seems perfectly content to sit and drink silent, however. Letting peace settle over them undisturbed as they watch little birds hop around the garden. 

Peace doesn’t last. She hardly twitches when Tooru’s phone starts ringing across the courtyard. It sends both Tooru and the birds reeling. They go flying off a ways while he stubbornly ignores it, closing his eyes and scowling between sips of his tea. It feels like it rings forever, and only seconds and it finishes ringing it starts again. He remains steadfast. It’s the third call that gets him moving. Three missed calls is just asking for trouble. He drains the remaining tea with two swallows, setting the empty cup down on the bench next to him. “Thank you very much. It was delicious. I’m sorry for intruding on you morning.” He says, turning to face his host. She waves him off like it was no problem, and he stands up to go pick up his phone.

The first step has his head spinning.

On the second his stomach drops out like he’s on a roller coaster. 

By the third step he’s wondering why the concrete is getting closer and closer to his face. 

__________ _ _ _

He catches himself, but not without totally shredding open his palms on the concrete. The dizziness lingers as he stays on the ground taking inventory. He expects to hear the old woman asking if he is alright, but nothing comes. He can’t hear his phone ringing anymore either. The spinning in his head only grows worse when he stands up and looks around. 

Not only is the old woman gone, but the whole court yard is different. The garden is much smaller, and there is basketball hoop taking up a lot of the room. The building and the doors are different colors than he remembers them being. Even his cell phone is gone. He bolts like a spooked cat. 

The panic and disorientation swimming in Tooru’s head only grows as he runs back home. Everything is Off. From the people and their clothes, to the store fronts and cars. None of it looks how it should. He doesn’t recognize half the business he passes, or the probably-phones people are using. Between the blood oozing out of his hands and the fact that he is sprinting with a look of wide-eyed fear on his face it's a miracle no one is using those probably-phones to call the cops on him. 

The differences on his street are less extreme but considerably more jarring. Houses he looks at every day are painted differently. Trees are taller than they should be. Gardens look totally different, and none of the cars are ones that he normally sees parked. Even at his own house the front door is the wrong color.

He’s so shaken that he knocks on the door to his own home. 

Things get worse when it is opens are a little wait. The man who opens the door is very familiar but not at the same time. The wrongness of the whole situation comes to a peak as the man stares at Tooru with a expression he would know no matter how much older the face that wore it go. 

“Iwa-chan?!” - “Tooru?!” They are both so startled they fall silent again. 

Hajime is the first to break it, opening his mouth a few times before landing on “What the fuck is going on?” Tooru would like to know himself. He has an idea, but it sounds totally crazy even as the person who thought of it. There isn’t another explanation he could think of though, except for fever dream maybe, and that wouldn't help the confused fully grown-up Hajime standing in front of him. 

“I think I’m...time traveling?” He can’t help but phrase it as a question to try and soften degree of crazy that comes with a sentence like that. 

“I swear to- You are the worst kind of trouble you know.” Hajime’s laughing at him, but he doesn’t ask for a better explanation. He’s not calling Tooru nuts, or a ghost, slamming the door in his face, calling the police, or any number of other way more understandable things to do than laugh. Tooru is pretty sure Hajime is some kind of saint. Or the future is really freaking weird. 

He’s about to start asking when a voice from inside the house cuts him off, “Hajime, who is it?” It is definitely a man’s voice, but Tooru is pretty sure it isn’t his own. Now isn’t the time to deal with the fact that that makes his heart squeeze painfully. 

“It’s um. Complicated.” Hajime calls back, turning his head as much as he can without taking his eyes off Tooru, and adding “You’re not going to fucking believe this,” as an afterthought. 

“Well bring Complicated in the house unless it involves all the neighbors. Food’s almost done.” There is something vaguely familiar about that voice that Tooru just can’t pin down. 

__________ _ _ _

It’s weird to have to be invited into a house that you live in. Or. Tooru supposes that future him doesn’t live here. That’s even weirder. The same-but-different feeling from earlier grows ever stronger in the house. The lay out is the same, he can and has walk around here with his eyes closed, but the paint and furniture is all new to him.

Also new to him is Sawamura Daichi standing in the kitchen. It’s not just Tooru’s heart that protests at Hajime goes to join him and they begin murmuring to each other shooting looks in his direction. He’s pretty sure this is what full organ failure feels like. They talk standing closer then Tooru’s parents ever have. Tooru numbly takes a seat at the kitchen table and tries to will his body back to some semblance of normalcy in the eternity they seem to spend talking. He’s not quite there when they finally shut up and join him at the table.  
Sawamura speaks first. “So Tooru-” He begins, and Tooru can’t help but cringe at sound of his first name in Sawamura’s mouth. “Oh. Sorry. Oikawa,” and now Sawamura sounds uncomfortable instead. “When are you from?” 

The fact that neither one of them is half as confused as Tooru is is sort of annoying. “Near the end of our third year.” He sounds clipped even to himself. 

He finds a bit of petty satisfaction in the increasingly uncomfortable look on Sawamura’s face. “Ah...is that before or after…” He trails, obviously unsure how to finish, but Tooru knows exactly what he’s thinking about. 

“After.” He and Hajime answer at the same time. Tooru must have been glaring a little more obviously than he thought. 

Sawamura hums in acknowledgement, searching Tooru’s face for a moment. Tooru stares right back like its a challenge, and Sawamura smiles in a soft sort of way that just pisses Tooru off more. “I’m going to go finish up breakfast.” 

Even though he’s not very far away just standing in the kitchen, Tooru is grateful for the space. He can be fairly comfortable hissing quietly to Hajime. “How could you?!”

“Tooru please…” Hajime doesn’t seem surprised, just annoyed. 

“Iwa-chan!” They took it away from us.” Tooru has to pause to swallow the lump in his throat. “H-he took it away from us.” He took you away from me too apparently. Tooru curls his toes tight against the floor. 

Hajime shakes his head, rubbing at his hair. Definitely a little annoyed. “That was 12 years ago for us. High school doesn't really matter anymore.” He scolds, like it should be obvious. “We moved on.” Like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like everything he worked for was in vein. Like his passion was inconsequential. Like their history was inconsequential. Tooru digs his nails into the scrapes on his palms. Hajime sighs and puts a heavy hand on Tooru’s head. “You are so 18.” He says, ruffling Tooru’s hair.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He can’t really look up with Hajime’s hand weighing his head down, but he’s sure he can hear his petulant tone plenty well. 

“Nothing. Just. 18 isn’t as long as you think it is. It all works out.” With one last pat, Hajime withdraws his hand. 

Tooru decides he must not know then, that at some point he chose Sawamura and smashed Tooru’s heart into pieces. It’s not all going to work out for him. Well. This Tooru won’t let himself be the one to ruin that for him. Instead he pastes on a teasing tone. “Old Iwa-chan is so cheesy.”  
Hajime is without a doubt on to the plastic lingering at the back of Tooru’s tone. “Tooru what’s-” Saved by the ringing phone. Hajime looks down at the caller id and swears, looking indecisive for a minute before getting up. “I’ll be right back.” Even though he waits until he’s almost down the hall to answer Tooru catches the beginning of the conversation. “Hey,” a pause, who ever it is must be talking. “What? No. Nothing’s wrong exactly.” He’s out of earshot before Tooru can catch any more. 

Left alone, there isn’t much for Tooru to do besides not think about his future being a let down too, and glare at the back of Sawamura’s head. Not great, but it could be worse. 

Worse like Sawamura finishing cooking and coming over with three plates the second Tooru dare to think that. With Hajime still on the phone, he’s got no good excuse to avoid talking besides his sort of shitty attitude. Somehow he doubts that will be enough. 

“You know. It’s ok that you’re not over it right now. I don’t blame you for being mad at me. You’ve got time.” Sawamura seems to be being careful with his words, but Tooru is still bothered by them. Time for what? Forgiveness? Sawamura doesn’t even understand the half of his crimes. 

Tooru hardly acknowledges anything was said at all, but Sawamura seems to be content. He tucks into his breakfast with no problem at all while Tooru does little more than his around his plate. He’s confused and sort of pissed off by this whole situation, right down to the fact that his eggs are cooked just the way he likes them. 

__________ _ _ _

Hajime comes to save him and rip his heart out of his chest at the same time apparently. He comes back into the room and passes the phone off to Sawamura with a kiss on the temple and a low voice in his ear the Tooru only just manages to catch over the sound of his heart shattering into a million pieces. “He wants to talk to you.” 

Sawamura returns the kiss, just a little peck on the lips as he stands to take the phone back up the hallway. “Yes love?” Huh?! Tooru whips his whole body around to hear the carried conversation more clearly. “No. I think I left it upstairs Tooru.” - “Well you usually call Hajime.” - “I know love but,” It half conversation is cut off by the sound of Sawamura heading up the stairs. 

What? Why? How? “What?!” Tooru lands on after a moment of gaping up the hall like a fish. 

Startled by the outburst, Hajime looks up with a fork halfway to his mouth. “What?” He mimics, following Tooru’s eyes down the hallway. “Oh. Oh!” Tooru isn’t sure he likes the smile the slides up over his face. “THAT'S why you were being such an ass.” 

“But… I thought…?” The puzzle pieces laid out before Tooru make no sense. 

“It’s all three of us. You, me, and Daichi.” Tooru isn’t sure if that helps or just makes him more confused. All three of them?

“You mean like...together?”

“Yeah like together.” Hajime says it like it should be obvious, but he must see the dim flickering of the light-bulb over Tooru’s head because he asks him to hold on and walks off for a minute. He comes back with a picture frame that he presses into Tooru’s hands. 

Tooru is pretty sure he’s never felt as happy in life as he looks in this photograph. It’s obviously nothing technically special, just a selfie of all three of them. None of them are even looking at the camera. But even with no memories for it pull up it floods Tooru with warmth. Hajime’s face is squished between his as Sawamura’s as they press huge grins into his cheeks like kisses. Hajime is smiling too. That really big one that makes Tooru’s heart act up. He’s so cute with his cheeks all squished. It’s probably the best photo Tooru has ever seen in his life. 

As lovey as it is, it also raises more questions than it answers. Three people? How does that even work? And why with Sawamura of all people? “How...did we get here?” 

When Hajime tries to take the frame Tooru clutches it like a treasure. “I’m not going to tell you anything else.” He says, making a second, more successful swipe at the picture frame. 

“But-”

“No. You can wait and find out the old fashioned way. This is all bad enough already. “

“But-”

“People aren’t supposed to know their futures Tooru. 

“Iwa-chan is such a bully.” Tooru sighs, and Hajime just laughs at him. He’s mellowed with age apparently, because the older Hajime isn’t half as easy to provoke as the one he’s used to. 

__________ _ _ _

With hopes of sneaking a few peaks at other photos Tooru excuses himself to the bathroom. He didn’t take much notice earlier but the hallway down into the kitchen is absolutely lined with picture frames. Photos of all three of them together, or just one or two of them, mixed in with shots of their presumed friends and family. Tooru could easily stand and look at them all for hours, but Hajime had made threats on his life if he did any snooping. That means he can probably only get way with very sneaky snooping, He stands at the bottom of the steps half listening to the few odd words he can hear from Sawamura. It doesn’t take long for Hajime to yell at him from the kitchen.  
The first floor bathroom is by far less exciting than the hallway. It looks almost the same as he is used to seeing it everyday. His time there is totally uneventful until he opens the door to leave. When he steps through its not into the picture filled hallway, but a court yard lined with red doors and smallish gardens. There is a basketball hoop taking up a lot of the room, and a bench with an old lady sitting on it. She doesn’t turn to look at him until the door clicks closed. 

“I think you’re ready for more tea.” Her voice carries easily, even though it doesn’t seem very loud at all. When Tooru doesn’t answer she starts walking towards him, holding a steaming cup of tea. He knows without a doubt that tea will send him back. He’s not sure how, or why, or even what’s going on really, but he knows that the tea will put him back where he is supposed to be. 

He’s not ready to leave. 

There is so much more he wants to know before he goes back. How he forgave Sawamura, or found the courage to tell Hajime he loves him, or got so lucks that Hajime actually loves him back. What their first date was like, or how two became three. There’s around 12 years worth of questions he wants answers to, and he’s sure he could crack Hajime.

He’s not ready to go back. 

“Everything you want to know you will learn with time. It’s your own life after all.” She says like she has read Tooru’s mind. All things considered she probably has. 

“I just want to stay a little while longer.” Tooru says, doing like a kid asking to stay up later at night. He’s always been a little impatient, and now that he’s here he doesn’t really see the point waiting. His future is literally right in front of him. 

The old woman smiles and shakes her head. “You are such a stubborn young man.” She presses the cup into his hands, curling his fingers so he has no choice but to hold onto it. “But not one who knows what he’s dealing with. It you stay here the future will dissolve around you, because you never lived your life to get here. And then there will be no one to send you back to fix your mistake either. You’ll be adrift in time. Alone forever and no time at all as you drift in a ruined universe.” As she speaks the edges of things around them grey and fuzz before snapping back. “Now. Oikawa-kun. Drink your tea.” 

It may be the fear at her words, or some power she put over him but Tooru finds himself lifting the cup to his lips mechanically. He drains half of it at once before choking. “Finish your tea Oikawa Tooru.” She says just as firmly, and the snap to action is that much quicker than before. A warning from his grandmother long ago about the power of names rings in his ears. Though he doesn’t have any idea how this woman learned his. He doesn’t supposed it matters when he is already draining the rest of the cup like a dying man. 

The head spinning nausea comes more quickly this time. Tooru is sure there is going to be a door knob shaped bruise on his back from slamming into the door behind him. At least he didn’t fall face first this time. Just as his ass hits the ground and he starts to slump sideways, the world is gone. 

__________ _ _ _

Tooru wakes up dripping sweat and beyond tangled up in his sheets. He doesn’t remember falling asleep last night, but he must have, because he remembers having what must have been the most vivid and weirdest dream of his life. 

Him, Hajime, and Sawamura from fucking Karasuno? As if. And what was with that crazy old lady. Yikes. He needs to get more sleep or something...It really was vivid though. He can still feel the burning in his palms as the slide against the sheets, and the throbbing sensation of a bruise growing on his back. His mouth even tastes like that second cup of tea. The mind can do some absolutely unbelievable things.

As he reaches for his phone to check to the time, Tooru discovers that his palms are actually skinned to hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are food for the soul, in case you hadn't heard.
> 
> Please let me know of any glaring mistakes, this was edited super minimally.
> 
> Tomorrow's themes are Vampire/Werewolves/Shape Shifters. Head over at check out ever one else's work for this super fun week on twitter at @hqhalloweek or they have a tumblr page of the same name (I'm pretty sure)
> 
> You can find me on twitter @confused_foam


End file.
